


Jerk It

by reynkout



Series: Werk It [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Porn, Come Swallowing, M/M, Masturbation, Orgasm, Porn Actor Shiro, Porn Video, Porn With Plot, Pseudo-Fisting, Semi-Public Sex, Squirting, Trans Character, Trans Keith (Voltron), Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering, Video Cameras
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 04:46:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10802031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reynkout/pseuds/reynkout
Summary: Keith gets called in for an interview with the adult video company Shiro works at. Little does he know: an interview can lead to an impromptu audition with his favorite porn star.





	Jerk It

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy, y'all, it's me- back with another installment of the Werk It series. That's right. It's a _series_ now. Enjoy.  
> 

“I’m _sorry_?”

Keith, if he wasn’t staring before, is almost gawking now. Surely, he must have heard wrong. His mind has been thrown into panic mode, muscles tense and ready to dash the hell out of this place. Suddenly, he doesn’t think applying for a position in the adult film industry was a good idea after all.

He blames his fuzzy, post-orgasmic thinking for making a very rash, spur-of-the-moment decision to send in his resume to the studio Shiro works at. He denies that it was his own damned choice to set up an interview with the studio’s hiring manager. Keith is in even more denial about actually coming and attending the interview.

And now, here he is, unable to do anything but replay the proposed offer over and over again in his head.

Lance McClain looks smug as he sits on the sofa across from where Keith is sitting. He repeats his last sentence, “I said, you can audition right now if you’d like.”

“You didn’t say the last three words last time.” Keith deadpans, still in shock.

Is Lance serious? Keith knows, because he’s seen plenty of other porn videos, that this can either go super well, or horribly, terribly bad. Lance, though nicely proportioned, is _not_ Keith’s type. He’s the adult video company’s top actor, yet Keith cannot bring himself to show off in front of him, let alone jerk off for Lance. Keith recoils a bit at the thought. The grip on his cup of water is so tight; the plastic crunches a bit. He takes a gulp to calm himself, then sets it down on the arm of his designated red sofa.

Lance shrugs. “We have all the equipment right here. We can start when you’re ready, Keith.”

Inhaling slowly, then exhaling even slower, Keith tries to recenter himself. He’s gotten this far, so he guesses he can go through with this interview-slash-audition thing too. He thinks about the pros, how they outweigh the cons. Hell, Keith could use some money. He’s tired of stocking supermarket aisles with conchas and snoballs, done with crappy waiting jobs and dealing with rude, overzealous customers. This would definitely be a good change of career… if he can call it that. As much as Keith loves free food, he would much rather be able to _afford_ food and work with people that weren’t half as annoying as angry, hungry diners. Hangry people, as Pidge, one of Keith’s secondary school friends, had put it.

“Alright,” Keith says, downing another gulp of water from his cup before continuing. “Alright. I’ll do it. I’m ready.”

“Coolio.” Lance grins, but it isn't like how Shiro grins. Of course not, Keith thinks to himself, no one can replace Shiro. He doesn't even know why he's trying to compare Lance to Shiro in the first place. “You're fine right where you are.”

“Ah,” Keith doesn’t say much more than a sound, looking once more around the room before he reaches for his belt. Time to get the show on the road.

Lance stares down at Keith’s crotch before blinking, taking a gulp of air, and brushing a hand through his brown hair. “Right, so, um. You can start by taking off your shirt now.”

Keith glimpses at his dark grey shirt as something wiggly and uncomfortable wells up inside his stomach. He doesn’t want to take off his shirt, but will Lance call off the audition if he refuses? He feels extremely self-conscious of himself, let alone of the way he looks. But, if this means Keith can land himself a job, he would sacrifice his dignity this one time… wouldn’t he?

“... No.” It’s as simple as that, refusing a request in order to keep his dignity. Keith feels good for standing up and declining, but another part of him fears that he may have just ended a potential career.

He knows he’s beginning to sweat; Keith’s cheeks and ears feel hot, upper lip damp with perspiration. Under his arms are beginning to feel uncomfortable as well. Keith has every right to feel this way, too, because Lance is glaring at him, head tilted to the side. Maybe he shouldn’t have said no. Maybe he shouldn’t have come at all to this interview.

“Why not?” Lance mimics the pout that’s settled on Keith’s face.

Keith lets out a shuddering breath, hands shaking as his grips the belt in his hands, as he hasn’t moved since Lance asked him to take off his top. This is it. Lance is going to ask him to leave as soon as he opens his mouth and tell Lance he isn’t willing to strip.

Before he can open his mouth and stutter, there are two curt raps at the closed door. Lance stops his excruciating gaze to answer the door while Keith quickly fumbles with his belt; he manages to buckle it loosely and pull down his shirt over it before the door opens.

“Lance? What are you doing here?” Keith hears a familiar voice ask, and he can’t help but snap his eyes up.

Shiro.

It’s Shiro.

 _Why_ is Shiro here when Lance is the one interviewing Keith?

Lance laughs, stepping away from the doorframe to let Shiro into the room. “Just thought I would introduce myself.” is his reasoning, punching Shiro playfully in the shoulder. “Don’t worry, dude. You’ve got your work cut out for yourself.”

If Keith wasn’t confused and uncomfortable before, he sure is now. He faintly wishes he could run, run faster than the wind; hide and forget that this ever happened. Unfortunately, both Lance and Shiro have their eyes on him. He’s never felt so much stage fright in his life, if he can call it that.

“It’s Keith, right?” Shiro gives him a gentle smile, then extends his free hand, the other one holding a clipboard with Keith’s application on it, as if waiting for Keith to take it and pull himself out of his owlish stupor.

“Keith Cow-gaine.” Lance says, butchering Keith’s last name as he flips through the papers on Shiro’s clipboard.

“It’s Kogane, actually.” Keith corrects him, but his words seem to fall on deaf ears, because Lance shoves Shiro aside, already waltzing out the room.

“Oh, what do you know! It’s time for my break.” he chirps in a sing-songy voice. “You two have fun!”

Keith can’t help but stare with his brows furrowed and his mouth parted in disbelief. So Lance was just here to pull his leg the whole time? What a jerk.

“Sorry about that.” Shiro’s gentle voice pulls Keith out of his irritation, rendering him speechless in disbelief as he stares at the cause of his wet dreams. 

He thought Shiro would be even more handsome in person, and while he’s still attractive, he seems… tired. Of course he wouldn’t behave and look the same way he does in his videos, but Keith can’t help but wonder if Shiro was unable to sleep last night. He’s one of the most popular actors in the studio, so he must have a busy schedule. Keith’s eyes widen when Shiro cocks his head to the side, and he realizes he’s taking too long to respond. His tongue feels thick as he murmurs “it’s alright.” 

“So, Cow-gaine, right?” Shiro’s offers him a friendly smile before he picks up the handheld camera from the coffee table.

“Kogane.” Keith corrects him. Yep, he should have stuck to a more common surname. Not even Shiro, who has a strange name himself, can pronounce Keith's last name.

“Are you ready?” Keith freezes, glancing down at his shirt and pants, but Shiro shakes his head, still wearing that reassuring smile. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean with that. I was going to film your introduction, and then you can start the actual audition.”

Oh. “Okay,” Keith says, hoping he doesn’t sound as nervous as he feels. 

“Great!” Shiro beams as he turns the camera on and brings the side panel out. “Relax, and just be yourself. If you feel like you messed up, you can always let me know and we can go again.”

Keith takes a deep breath to steel his nerves, then opens his eyes to nod at Shiro as he settles into a relaxed pose. “Alright.”

The red light turns on, indicating that Shiro has begun filming, and Keith nods toward the camera as Shiro begins the introduction. “Alright, we’ve got a new guy here. What’s your name, man?”

“Keith.” Keith had been wondering whether or not to use an alias when the studio manager had asked him for an interview, or to use his real name- after all, Shiro seems to use his real name. But just to be on the safe side, he’ll leave out his surname.

Shiro doesn’t seem fazed by the fact that Keith only gives his first name- he’s probably conducted tons of interviews, surely there have been others who chose to stay on the side of caution. “Alright, Keith. How old are you?”

“Old enough to audition.” His age is on the application already. He hopes that his wit doesn’t deter Shiro’s interest in him.

Shiro chuckles. “Well, that’s good.” Keith feels some of the tension in his shoulders leave. Thank god. “I’ve gotta ask, are you into girls? Boys? Or both?”

I’m into you, Keith doesn’t say, flushing at the thought. The words feel stuck in his throat, but he manages to get his vocal cords working again. He croaks awkwardly, “I like guys, but it’s been awhile.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Shiro says reassuringly. “I wasn’t on the market for a long time. You’ll find your niche.” It’s a little surprising to hear how understanding Shiro is. Keith doesn’t know what to say. “Can we watch you jerk it for us?”

Well, this is it. Keith nods, trying to give Shiro (and the camera) a small confident grin so they don’t see how nervous he really is. “Sure.” 

As he stands up to start undoing his buckle, Keith tries to gives himself a mental pep talk. _Look at Shiro, show yourself off, he likes it when his partners are confident._ Of course, he’s still worried Shiro will be shocked when he takes his underwear off but not his shirt- will he stop the audition all together? He must have been expecting someone with a penis, after all. 

He looks up at Shiro, tongue darting out across his lips he pulls the buckle out of the loops, letting it drop to the floor. “Perfect,” Shiro says with a nod, urging Keith on with a twirl of his finger. Keith turns around, showing off his ass before he starts slowly wriggling his jeans down. He’s wearing his best pair of underwear, revealing more of the red fabric as he turns to face the camera again. 

“Are you a Ronaldo fan?” Shiro asks, and Keith almost stops in his surprise. He didn’t know Shiro kept up with sports. But no, Keith is wearing his CR7 trunks and Shiro recognizes them. He _recognizes_ where they are from; which brand they are.

“Yeah, I am,” he says with a little grin, his heart pounding at the way Shiro grins back. _Focus on stripping, Kogane,_ he thinks to himself as he continues to slide the jeans lower. He’s wondering if he should have worn his packer today, but Shiro makes a sound of approval that makes Keith look up. 

“Very nice,” he says, winking at Keith as he slides a hand down his chest, urging Keith to touch himself. The suggestion does things to Keith, biting his lip as he rubs a hand over the hem of his boxer briefs before sliding them down under the fabric. _Oh god._

He has to close his eyes as his fingers brush over the nub, down in between his folds. He’s already wet, fluids smearing over his fingertips.

“G-god,” he pants, knowing he’ll have to be more vocal than he usually is for a porn audition. He opens his eyes again to see Shiro nodding, spurring him on to finally let his jeans drop down to the floor. Unfortunately he has to take his hand out of his underwear to get his pants off his feet, but as soon as they’re discarded, he starts caressing himself with both hands, teasing the camera by tugging on the hem of his briefs to reveal more flesh. Shiro twirls his finger again, and Keith turns around to drag the underwear down to reveal his toned ass. 

“Beautiful,” Shiro murmurs, doing nothing to help the arousal in Keith’s core. Keith retaliates by sliding his hands up and down the supple flesh, looking over his shoulder at Shiro when he squeezes the pert cheeks. He turns around again, lips parted as he pulls the underwear down to reveal that he doesn’t have a cock.

Shiro seems to inhale a little, his eyes glinting with something Keith can’t discern, but he doesn’t seem disgusted or confused. Instead, he nods at Keith to keep going. “Gorgeous.” he says.

Fuck. Keith tries to hide his blush by keeping his head down and eyes closed as he continues to touch himself. He turns around and bends over to give Shiro a look once he pulls his underwear off completely, peering back at Shiro to see his expression. 

“... Nice,” Shiro says, almost as if he forgot he was supposed to say something, and Keith’s breath hitches.

Keith needs to keep his cool, but Shiro is giving him the hardest time. One of his hands bunch the hem of his shirt, almost as if he wants to cover himself, but he's gone too far past the threshold to do that now. And, judging from Shiro's reaction, his one-man audience seems to be enjoying the view.

Kicking away his undergarment, Keith breathes in a shuddering breath. He can practically feel Shiro’s eyes on him, staring intensely.

“I, um, I'm going to leave my shirt on.” Keith announces, but his voice sounds so feeble and unsure. What happened to his confident self?

Shiro, though, looks like he has no problem with that, unlike Lance. “That's okay.” he says. “Would you like to show off what you've got there?” He points his chin at Keith, as if he's talking about Keith's junk.

“Mm,” Keith hums. Yes, yes he would like to show Shiro all that junk, all that junk inside his trunk. 

He smiles, mainly to himself, before all but waltzing over to the couch he had originally been sitting on. The faux leather is chilly on his bare bottom when he sits, and he shivers. He likes the cherry red color it is, almost like a Chupa Chup when Keith takes off the yellow wrapping. Hiking up his legs, Keith spreads them open so Shiro can get a good look at him.

Shiro blinks, but it’s less like a blink and more of a closing of his eyes- an inhale- before he opens them again. He, and the handheld camera that is now recording, are fixed on Keith’s nether region, taking in all of Keith’s glory.

“Want to touch yourself?” he asks and, boy, does it sound sweet.

“Sure,” Keith replies, an air of confidence in his voice. He can do that. Keith’s hand sneaks down, daring to stroke a digit against his sensitive nub.

A bolt of pleasure strikes through his core, his teeth grazing his bottom lip ever so lightly. Parting his teeth, Keith’s tongue sticks out to lick a clear trail of saliva over his plush lips. Only when he looks up does he start to feel hot, watching Shiro watch _him_. He gulps, then lets out a shuddering sigh as Keith’s lone finger teases his entrance. He is still so damp, so hot and ready for Shir- _whoa_ , for something to penetrate him.

Keith bites back a moan as his finger wiggles its way in.

“Let me hear those sounds, baby.” Shiro is grinning at Keith.

Oh no, Keith thinks. He’s hot. Keith can’t help the blush that blooms across his face, the hitch of his breath; he wants to obey Shiro. And it’s not hard to let more moans spill from his mouth with the heated gaze Shiro has on him, with the way he’s touching himself thinking it’s Shiro’s fingers on him. 

“Shi-” Keith catches himself saying Shiro’s name, instead breaking off into a breathy moan. “Aaah,”

Shiro chuckles, shaking his head side to side. “You’re allowed to swear in front of the camera, you know.”

Keith fights the urge to roll his eyes; he will not catch the “oculargyric crisis”. He licks his lips, adding more pressure to his touches, lifting his eyes from his stomach to the camera lens. He can vaguely see his reflection, of his shyness slipping to reveal a more sultry expression. He likes that, Keith concludes, the assets he has already got being put to good use. He imagines that Shiro is going, if not a lot, a little bit crazy for him, though it doesn’t show on Shiro’s face. After all, Keith understands the concept of professionalism.

“Ah!” Keith lets out when a bolt of pleasure runs down his spine like lightning does a telephone pole. His hitched knees fall to either side of him, in almost a criss-cross-applesauce form. It exposes him, and Keith is grateful for his natural flexibility, as limited as it may be; he feels no strain in his joints as he holds this position.

His fingers slip through the slick, one eye falling shut on instinct, but Keith pulls it open again, in a pseudo wink at the camera, at _Shiro_. If Keith is going to jerk off in front of his man crush, he doesn’t want to miss a single thing, and keeps his eyes open. His middle finger circles around his sensitive nub before it dips lower.

“That’s good,” Shiro says, and Keith nods in agreement as he slips the digit into his entrance, moans loud at the delightful intrusion.

He swears he sees Shiro’s Adam’s apple bob slightly as Keith pumps his finger in and out quickly. His body takes it so easily, his muscles giving way, like it is trying to suck in Keith’s middle finger to his core.

Shiro smacks his lips once. “That’s a real greedy hole you’ve got there, kitten.”

Keith feels his hips push out just a little more at the nickname, and he wiggles them gently. Heat pools in his belly. “Mm…” he hums, taking his finger out, deciding to show Shiro his hole; spreading his folds, Keith clenches, unclenches, and clenches his muscles again, forcing his entrance to flutter in a mock orgasm. It feels good, but the wave of ecstatic relief does not wash over him.

The camera lens whirs, zooming in on Keith’s face, then zooms out so Shiro can shuffle closer. “What’s the biggest you’ve ever taken, Keith?” he asks in a very simple yet curious manner.

Keith smiles at that. None as big as you, Keith feels the urge to say, but he doesn’t. “Not enough to satisfy me…” he breathes, two of his fingers plunging back into himself.

“Such a shame… But what about yourself? Are your fingers enough to satisfy you?” Shiro continues his playful banter.

This time, Keith is brutally honest. He cannot deny himself of the truth any longer. Shiro is so close to him; if only he could press up to him and gyrate against Shiro’s rock hard body, audition for a potential job, be damned. “No, not my fingers. But maybe yours…” Keith’s two digits come out covered in wetness, and he trails them over the expanse of his belly, his clothed torso, finally to his mouth. He wraps his lips around them, tasting himself as he looks tantalizingly into the camera lens.

“I’m honored.” Shiro says, reply as smooth as butter, but his left hand is shaking as he grips Keith’s supple thigh with it. Keith is so warm, so soft. Keith is the perfect contrast to Shiro, even down to their skin tone. His eyes flick up at Keith over the handheld movie camera. “How do you taste, kitten?”

Keith doesn’t think he’s seen a more predatory look in his life like the one Shiro is giving him now. Keith smirks, allowing his head to loll as his tongue twirls on his fingertips, “So good, but it could taste better…” he mutters. He feels a boost of ego when Shiro’s hand moves to the crease where Keith’s hip meets his thigh. “Hh, please.” He brings his shirt up just a bit, enough to expose his belly button.

“‘Please’, what?” Shiro pans the camera from Keith’s hole to his stomach, then to his face. “I didn’t do anything yet, Keith.”

 _Wow_. Wow, wowow, Keith doesn’t know how perfect his name sounds coming from Shiro’s voice until now. He keens, flexing his feet in attempt to calm himself. His heart feels like it is about to jump right out of his chest.

“Please,” His voice has a slight tremor, but it’s because he’s so turned on. “Finger me?”

There, he finally said it. Keith feels some relief, though his arousal grows headier. He is slipping into a state where he will sacrifice his pride, so long as he gets what he wants. And what he wants right now… Who he wants right now, well, _he_ is right in front of him.

“Of course,” Shiro says, and it sounds absolutely wicked, and in the best way possible. 

His hand rubs up and down the inside of Keith's thigh, finally moving towards Keith's parts, tracing the outline of his folds which are moist with slick. From this alone, Keith's legs are quivering with arousal, excitement. He wants more. He'll get more, if that is the last thing he will receive. Shiro presses further, a lone finger wriggling at the front of Keith's hole. It is so soft, so warm that Keith might just melt around Shiro when he sticks it in. What would it feel like around Shiro's dick?

“Amazing, Keith,” Shiro comments, “Do you want me in you?” The way he questions is so calm, like the inquiry is just so everyday. Maybe to Shiro it is, but it sets Keith's soul aflame.

Keith feels himself nod frantically. “Yes, yes, please.” He wants more than anything for Shiro to be inside him.

The initial breach from Shiro's finger feels a little odd; Keith blames it on being abstinent for so long, though this moment is worth all the times he's only kept to himself, getting off without the help of another person. Keith gasps, moaning low in his throat. Shiro twists his finger, shoving it to the knuckle. Shiro’s fingers are not the most slender, but Keith knows that though he enjoys first intrusions, he wants more than just a single digit in him.

Keith reaches for Shiro’s wrist, half-lidded eyes snapping up to the camera lens. If he is going to beg again, he might as well make a show out of it, too. After all, he _is_ auditioning for an acting position.

“You must want something, kitten.” Shiro gets the hint, full eyebrows raising when Keith lets out a lewd wail as he crooks his finger, digging into the velvety walls of Keith’s insides. His slick drips out of him, coating his thighs in a crystal clear shine. Keith’s face is becoming a beautiful pink color.

A trail of saliva seeps from the corner of Keith’s mouth, “I-I do. Put another in.” He adds a ‘please’ when he can feel Shiro’s digit bumping against that sweet spot in him again; the tip of another finger snakes its way into him in the same moment.

“You’re so sensitive.” Shiro is abusing that place in Keith now, thumb coming up to flick at Keith’s throbbing nub.

Keith can’t help but let out a tiny sob, both areas being stimulated at once is a pleasure like no other. Slowly, so slowly, a second finger is added to him. He lets out a breathy moan, circling his hips, rotating them so they get him off in the right way. It feels so good, even better than when Keith fingers himself, and the fact that _Shiro_ is the one fingering him doesn’t flag his arousal- quite the opposite; his pulse is peaking.

Shiro’s eyes flick from the video camera’s screen to Keith, watching as his two fingers plunge into the boy. He seems to be enjoying this, too, from the looks of it. Keith imagines he is, Shiro’s name chanting in his head like a mantra; it’s so close to coming out of his throat and off his tongue, but Keith holds it back. He doesn’t know what would happen if he were to say Shiro’s name while they are recording.

Would Shiro like it? Would they edit it out of the video later? Would Keith be hired if he said Shiro’s name while riding his fingers? There are too many questions, and not enough answers in this moment.

But all of Keith’s worries fly out the door when the telltale pressure in his lower abdomen begins to build. He is so close to release; Shiro has got three of his thick fingers in Keith, thrusting them in and out at a wrist-breaking speed. Keith can feel his muscles tightening, his toes curling and fists balling.

“Fuck, fuck,” Keith spews, squeezing his eyes shut for a second. He knows that the camera is taking everything in, all of him. _Shiro_ is taking in everything from him.

He thinks of it, imagines how it must feel to be Shiro in this moment. Keith’s juices coat his fingers, pruning the finger pads and making a mess all over the red couch. Keith wonders what color his face must be right now. His breath hitches when Shiro jabs that rough patch in him. A wail rips from his throat as his imagination provides a vivid picture of Shiro on his knees, filming them as he uses his skillful tongue to give head to Keith, eat him out and feast on Keith until his insatiable thirst is quenched.

Panting harshly, Keith looks into Shiro’s metallic-colored eyes, vision going slightly doubled. His mind is foggy, thoughts a mass of jumbled combination of words, sounds and images. Keith can’t do anything more than want more. Both fists unfurl to be brought down between his folds, one of them on the task to rub at his nub while the other has a more... _special_ mission.

He hears Shiro swear through gritted teeth, but Keith is already screaming as he adds two of his own fingers into his already filled hole.

Five fingers, he thinks, five fingers and he can feel Shiro’s own gliding against his as they piledrive into his body. The stretch is so much that he can no longer attempt to think, let alone talk, anymore. Keith’s mouth is fixed in an ‘o’ shape, screams and moans going unchecked before they leave his vocal cords.

“Oh god, Keith.” Shiro breathes and, with that, Keith is done for.

He’s coming, head snapping up in what feels similar to rapture, his whole body jerking. The air in his lungs is stolen by his orgasm, wrecking his nervous system so hard that Keith’s legs flail, or at least he thinks they do, as all he can do is hold on for the ride. Colors pop behind his eyes, tinting his view of Shiro with bright whites, blues, reds, purples as he comes. His grasp on himself stays fast as he feels himself convulse around Shiro’s and his digits, head and ears pounding from the sheer pleasure of it all. His ears are slightly shot, unable to hear anything but the high-pitched hum of ecstasy that is running through his veins. 

Then, there’s something wet that splashes over his lap, his thighs thoroughly soaked with it, and it just keeps going. Keith looks down with unfocused eyes, wondering slightly if he’d just wet himself, but no, that’s _not_ pee. He hadn’t drunk that much water, except for the tiny cup of water sitting on the couch arm still half-full.

“Fuck,” Keith says as he realizes what he’s done.

Shiro licks his lips and, this time, Keith cannot mistake the absolute joy in Shiro’s voice for anything else as he exclaims, “You never mentioned you were a squirter.”

Keith laughs, no, giggles, as that is the only word that can best describe the chortle that comes from his lips. “I never knew I could until now.”

Oh. Oh, that seems to have Shiro surprised. Or something, because his ears turn pink, and he looks away. Quietly, his fingers slip free from Keith’s puckered entrance, going from three, to two, one, and then finally out all together. Keith dislodges his own fingers, catching Shiro’s hand before he can wipe them on his pants; instead, Keith takes them to his mouth, peering daringly into the camera lens as he sucks his spendings that coat Shiro’s hand.

“Mmm,” When he is done, Keith doesn’t swallow right away. He lets Shiro have his hand back, sticking out his tongue to show what he has collected on his tongue before taking it into himself, drinking it down, then putting his tongue back on display to prove that it is free of any pearly orgasm fluids.

Shiro stays frozen for a few seconds before he stops the recording and just. Breathes. In, out, slow breaths to match Keith’s own. “Wow,” He proclaims, “That’s a wrap.”

Keith swallows once more, but this time it is only his own spit that he takes down into him. His legs are like jelly, but he somehow manages to close them, trying to show a little decency as he floats down from his high. “Yeah.” is all he can say. He wants to curl up against Shiro and sleep for a decade, but he knows that isn’t possible.

Keith is handed a towel and a pack of wipes before Shiro is heading to the door. “Good job. I’ll let you clean up. I’ll be outside when you’re ready.”

“Uh, thanks.” Keith mutters, but Shiro is already shutting the door.

He can only hope he didn’t fuck up anything as he cleans himself and the couch, thankful for its fluid-resistant leather.

* * *

Keith gets a text late at night the next day from a number he does not recognize. He’s still awake, scrolling through endless posts on his blog feed when he sees his phone vibrate, dancing on the desk..

**From: 52 5561 9058**

**Hi, Keith. It’s Shiro. I did your audition yesterday? Everyone at the studio really liked your performance. We would love you to be on our team. :-)**

Keith rolls his eyes at the smiley emoticon, but keeps reading. His stomach is trembling with butterflies.

**Call me so we can find a time to go over paperwork and get you situated with the company? This is my personal, so you can call this number. Have a good night, Keith.**

Keith barely can feel anything but overwhelming excitement as he types out his reply, sending it off with an enormous grin on his face.

**To: 52 5561 9058**

**Call you tomorrow morning.  
Thanks. You too, Shiro.**

**Author's Note:**

> Liked it? Loved it? Let me know with a Kudo and/or comment. I love to read your feedback, and do my best to reply to all y'all, too.
> 
> What will entail the next part of Werk It? Find out next time! See you in the next installment!


End file.
